


I Remember - Breaking Me Down sequel

by Wearenotalright



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Drug Addiction, Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 22:43:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1834912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wearenotalright/pseuds/Wearenotalright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Breaking Me Down sequel.)</p><p>The past 5 years have been crazy for Frank. His band grew huge, then broke up. He's been all over the world and seen so many things he's thought he's never seen. Now he's back in NJ and he sees the man that he could never forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Remember - Breaking Me Down sequel

**Author's Note:**

> You gotta read Breaking Me Down before this. Enjoy! xo

Jersey is weird now for me. It's like a new place that I've never been to before, and I've lived here my whole life. It's different now though, since I've seen the world and everything the world has to offer. It's almost like I don't belong here anymore. It's like everyone knows me as "Frank Iero: the angry frontman of Leathermouth." It's almost like that's all I'm ever going to be known about. Truthfully my music is very angry, and when I started the band I was a very angry person. After all these years, I'm not angry anymore. 

I'm proud of my old band and I'm proud of our success but sometimes I wish I was just Frank Iero. Nothing more and nothing less. Just Frank Iero. I almost want to be nameless again. When I was just Frank Iero, it wasn't a big deal. Now almost everyone knows my name. 

***

"Frank motherfucking Iero!" Yelled Mikey with a huge grin on his face. Practically running into the bar. Tonight is my welcome home party at a local bar I used to go to before my band hit it big. 

"Mikey!" I yelled back taking in his embrace. I haven't seen him in nearly 5 years. It felt nice seeing my best friend again. 

"Shit, dude! I'm so happy you're home!" 

It did feel good. After a few weeks of being home I started to warm up to the sweet (vile) smell of New Jersey again. This will always be my home. While everyone is trying their best to leave this state all I want to do is stay here forever. I've seen the whole world and I will still take New Jersey over anything. In a heart beat. Sometimes all you need is home. 

"Yeah," I sighed. "What have you've been doing with your life lately, Mikey?" I asked. 

Snorting, Mikey said, "you want to talk about boring me?! I want to head what it's like to be fucking famous!"

I shrugged. "I'm still me," I explained, "just more people know about me." 

I spent the rest of the night hanging out with mostly Mikey and Ray and talking about old times and telling them about what my life was like on the road and what I've seen, what I've experienced. I told them about all the crazy shit that's happened. They're just watching my mouth move as I relive these experiences. Both nodding and nudging me to tell more. They were so interested into what my life turned out like. Mikey telling me how he just knew I was going to be making music for a living. 

I can honestly say I disagree with Mikey. I never thought I would make it. In a weird way I have Gerard to thank for my success. When I first started the band it became my therapy, helping me deal with the abuse I've dealt with when I was with Gerard. All the anger finally spilled out of my body like a sharp knife into my throat. I needed the release and I tried more than anything to get noticed so Gerard can see how much better I am than him. How I did this all without him. That after we broke up, it improved me. 

"Where's Gerard?" I asked, filling in a silence that was in the air for almost 10 minutes.

"Frank-" Mikey tried to talk but I cut him off. "No. I need to see him." 

I had a few things that I want to tell him. A few questions that I need to ask him. I needed my fucking closure.

"That's not a good idea." Mikey replied sadly.

"Tell me, Mikey." I said, almost shaking. I'm pretty drunk, but not stumbling drunk. I get really emotional when I drink.

"Frank, please."

I was so confused and so hurt at the same time. Why couldn't I see him? Was there something wrong with me? Was Mikey scared for me to see him again? Did his abusive ways get even worse? 

My thoughts got the best of me and I left the bar. I didn't tell anyone. I just left so I can go to Gerard's place and talk to him myself and find out what's the big deal for me seeing him again. I get that Mikey's concerned because of our shitty relationship. But I'm stronger now. I can handle myself. I drowned and I came back up from the water stronger and better than ever. I have no fear anymore. 

Before I know it I'm at Gerard's house. I shutter from the memories flowing in my head. I do my best to block them out as I walk over to the door.

I know it's late to knock on the door. It's nearly 10PM. But the Way's are known for their night time life. The family are like fucking bats or some shit. 

"Frank?" I heard a voice. Faint and desperate. I turn my head and I see Gerard. My jaw dropped. 

He's a fucking mess. His hair was greasy from lack of showering, a little long. He's sickly thin. His jaw line popping out. His eyes are dark and dead. His hands trembling. He's wearing an over sized hoodie and black jeans that look too big for him. 

He doesn't have a smile. I think he lost his smile. 

"Gerard."

He looks at me emotionless. No anger, sadness, happiness. Nothing. I can't read his eyes. They don't even have the beautiful hazel color that they were years back. He looks fucking dead. 

"What the fuck happened to you?" I said back to him. It didn't even come out as a question but as a statement. 

He didn't say anything as we both walked up to his room. He still has the same room.

I almost wanted to vomit when we got inside his room. It smelled like a dead body, sweat and shame. His clothes were all over the place. I didn't spot once piece of art on his walls. It looks like he hasn't left his room in 100 years. It smells like it, at least. He doesn't have a TV or anything personal. It's just a room with a bed, clothes all over the place and a coffee table right near his ratty bed. 

I felt like I got slapped in the face when I saw his coffee table. 

Scattered, all over, needles, cut up straws, crushed up drugs. It was like a scene from a movie. The orange caps all over the floor. The caps all over the table to suck up the poison so he can inject it into his veins. I never knew shit like this was real. I've been all over the world too, I've seen drugs. Nothing like this though. This was a horror movie. 

He hates needles.

"Sorry my maid's on vacation." He mumbled going over to his bed. Sitting down and lighting up a cigarette. "What do you want?" He said coldly. Dead daggers piercing through my soul.

"I-" 

I couldn't even speak. I was just looking down at the mess. The drugs. The shame. It was written all over the room. It's clear now that Gerard sold all his valuables to support his habit. It was a murder scene. He was already dead. He seems alive but he's really not. How can you be alive when you're destroying yourself? 

"How long?" I asked him with a shaky voice. 

"I've been deep for almost 5 years."

My heart felt heavy and guilt pumping in my blood. It's been a little over 5 years since we broke up. Was this all my fault? Did he miss me so he went to drugs? Was he guilty from what he did to me so he started to hurt himself? 

Or maybe I'm just being a selfish asshole and making this about me. Maybe he's just always been damaged and he just hid it from me. I never knew because he didn't let me know. 

"What happened to your art work?" I asked barely above a whisper. 

He laughed and said, "long gone."

What was so funny about all of this? There's no secret that he was a terrible boyfriend and he treated me like total shit, but that doesn't mean he should be killing himself like this. There's no way this is the Gerard that I knew. The one I did love at one point. There's nothing funny about this and I wish he wouldn't laugh at this. He should try to get clean. Knowing him, he won't. 

"You're better than this." I said filling the air with my worry. 

Gerard stood up and gave me a look only death can see. "What the fuck do you know about what's best for me?"

"I know you're better than dope." I simply said, standing my ground. 

He turned his face away from me, "do you know what I went through after you left?"

I wanted to speak but I couldn't. I knew he was right, I didn't know. I left him with nothing. I just got up and left and I didn't say anything else to him. I didn't want him to know anything about what was going on with me. I made sure all our friends didn't tell him. I changed my phone number, changed my locks on my doors. I even sold my car and got a new car. I have no idea what he's been up to, just like he had no idea what I've been doing, either. Unless it's about my band.

"Fucking big shot over here," he continued, "fucking rock star. Selling records, all over the world. Why are you in Jersey anyway? Jersey is a death sentence and you made it out. Get out. Leave it for us failures." 

"I'm still me." I retorted. "Just because I made it with my band doesn't change who I am. I know my roots. You clearly forgot your own."

Gerard sighed and walked away from me. "You have no idea. You won't ever get it. I'm glad you don't either, Frankie."

I felt like my heart stopped. 

"I have to go." I said and I practically ran out of his house. 

Running out the door I feel the tears run down my face and I know I can't stop them. I don't even know why I'm fucking crying either. He's not my boyfriend anymore, he's not my anything...

I didn't leave his house though. I sat on his steps. Lost in my own head and my thoughts. I can't stop thinking of the image I just saw. I remember Gerard happy. Smiles. A little chubby and I loved it. He was the best person to cuddle with. I remember his laugh when I made a stupid joke and he called me a dork. That was all before the abuse. Before the fights. Before the name calling. Before he turned sour. It was so good, when it was good it was fucking great and I loved every second of it. Now here I am, one of the highest paid musicians in this generation, and he's in his room, slowly killing himself. How could I have been so blind? 

"I told you not to see him." I heard Mikey's voice walking up to his house. I didn't even look up. I just sniffed. 

"I'm sorry." I mumbled. 

I felt Mikey sit next to me and put his arm around me. "We've tried everything. He doesn't want to get clean." 

I didn't say anything. I just nodded. I didn't want to talk. 

I wanted Gerard to be ok. I would never wish this on him. I wanted him happy. 

\---

A few weeks go by and I don't see anyone. I'm drowning in my depression. I barely leave my place. I just strum my guitar hoping that I can come out with something worth it. But I can't. Nothing is clicking with me. Music always seems to help me but that can't even stop the horrible images and thoughts I keep having. 

All I can think about is Gerard putting a needle in his veins. Over dosing. Getting a hot bag. I can't stop playing his death in my head. It won't stop and I want to scream. 

I've spent days I'm bed feeling useless. I care so much yet I'm not doing anything about it. I have all this money. I can send him to a good rehab center and get him clean and get his life together. I can help him get his life on track but I'm not doing anything other than feeling sorry for myself. My self pity is taking over my body and my mind and I can't stop it. 

Until I heard a knock on the door. 

I got up and answered my door and to my shock. It's Mikey and Gerard. 

I didn't even say a word. I let them in. Gerard's wearing sunglasses and he looks broken. 

Mikey started up the talk. "Listen, Frank, you know me. We've been friends for so long. I wouldn't do this if I truly needed you." 

I nodded to let him keep going. 

"Gerard wants to get clean." I look over to him and his head is down. 

Mikey continued, "we can't afford a center."

I didn't say anything at first. I just let everything sink in. After a few minutes I finally speak. "Are you willing to leave today?"

Barely above a whisper I'm pretty sure I heard him say, "will you take me there?"

I asked Mikey to leave so him and I can talk alone and he understood and went into the living room. 

"Gerard," I said walking over to him, embracing him into a hug. 

"I don't know how I got this way." Gerard choked out. 

I let him cry on me, holding onto me for dear life. He's squeezing my arms, crying and sobbing into me. I think I can almost feel his heart breaking. 

"You'll get better."

I hope I can believe my own words. I hope I'm not lying to him and myself. 

"I'm sorry for everything." 

My heart took over my brain and I told my brain to fuck off and I pulled him away from me and I kissed him softly. 

"Frank..." He trailed off. 

"Let's get you help. I know there's the Gerard that I know in you left. You're not fully gone. Just at rock bottom."

Gerard nodded at me, letting tears fall down his face, I whipped them up with my thumb, taking his shaky hand. 

"I'll make it up to you, I promise"


End file.
